Destiny's Dream

by Delia Latham

  “OK, OK!” Clay raised both hands, almost wishing he had a white flag to wave. “You’re free to call it whatever you want. And for the record, I really do hope it works out for you.”

  She sniffed, and he couldn’t help chuckling.

  “I do, Destiny. I’m sorry if I sound cynical, but I’m afraid that’s just who I am. It doesn’t mean I don’t think you can do it.” Reaching across the table, he tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Truce?”

  She hesitated, obviously wanting to be mad, but then the corners of her lips tipped upward in a tentative smile. “Truce.”

  Now why did that one word, from a woman he’d met a mere couple of hours ago, make him feel like he’d won the lottery jackpot?

  Stupid Cupid.

  Destiny's Dream

  3

  “I still can’t believe you left without greeting all the people who were thoughtful enough to come and extend their condolences—and with a man you’d never met before in your life. Destiny, are you out of your mind? He could have been a serial killer!”

  Destiny sighed. Jenna had harangued her about her abominable behavior the day of Mama’s funeral for an entire week. Would it never end?

  “Bob knew him, remember? Both of you knew I left with Clay. I hardly think I was in any danger.”

  After the final two grueling weeks with Mama, her nerves were stretched taut, and Clay Gallagher’s little wrong turn into her life had been the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back. In hindsight, she knew she would never have made it through the long line of sympathizers, to say nothing of the endless afternoon of food and family following it.

  She hadn’t heard from Clay since he dropped her off at Mama’s house after their impromptu coffee date. She’d returned just as the last guests departed, giving Jenna and Jeremy free rein to express their extreme disapproval—and, of course, relief that she hadn’t been mugged, raped, or killed. She had to give them credit for being concerned about her.

  As for Clay, he probably thought she was crazy too. She had manhandled him out of the church, and all but forced him to mount a white steed and carry her away. An unbidden image of Clay Gallagher wedged into a knight’s armor atop a horse only slightly larger than himself made her giggle.

  Wrong move.

  “You think it’s funny, Destiny?” Jenna flung one of Mama’s dresses into a box marked “Goodwill.” Whirling, she planted hands on hips and glared across the room. “When did you get to be so thoughtless? Jeremy and I just lost our mother. What if we’d had to deal with losing you the same day? It is not funny!”

  Destiny thought about reminding Jenna that she had lost her mother, as well. Instead, she laughed at the sight of her oh-so-proper little sister, tired and tousled from digging in Mama’s closets and drawers, and white with anger. She half expected Dr. Bob’s elegant wife to stamp her foot in a genuine, old-fashioned tantrum.

  At the outraged expression on Jenna’s perfect cameo face, Destiny relented. Tossing one last item out of Mama’s dresser and into an already stuffed box, she crossed the room to fold the other woman into her arms. “I’m OK, Jen. I shouldn’t have left like that, but I’m really OK. OK?”

  Standing so close to her sister’s petite, five-foot frame, Destiny felt like a gawky adolescent—which was ridiculous, considering she was the eldest sibling. Shouldn’t there have been some sense of superiority in that?

  But no. Two years younger than Destiny, Jenna epitomized the perfect lady. Beautiful, elegant, always making all the right moves and meeting all the right people—hence her marriage to Dr. Bob, who had once been considered Castle Creek’s most eligible bachelor. Even delivering the twins, which was completely out of her control, had been another fait accompli in Mama’s eyes. Jenna simply could do no wrong.

  And Jeremy, as her only son, was Mama’s darling. Not that Destiny minded. She adored her baby brother, too, and was every bit as proud of him.

  But that left her to be the responsible, practical child. When Mama got sick, no one even thought to question whether or not she would quit her very good job and take care of their beloved parent. Daddy made his early departure, thanks to a fatally faulty ticker, some fifteen years earlier. Determined that her children would not suffer more than the loss of their father, Mama worked two jobs and took in a mountain of ironing every week to keep her three teen-aged children fed and clothed. While she expected nothing back from them other than their love and respect, none of the siblings could abide the idea of their mother in a nursing home or in the care of others who might not treat her with the deference and kindness she so deserved.

  So Destiny quit her cushy job, gave up her cute little apartment, and moved in with Mama. It hadn’t been long before she realized what that decision would cost in terms of close friends and a social life. Within a few months, she had neither.

  For just over five years, her entire life had revolved around her mother. Losing her was harder than anyone could possibly know—including Jenna and Jeremy. They loved Mama, but neither of them had been around during her illness. Destiny acknowledged that her behavior the day of Mama’s funeral had been less than admirable. Still, knowing how close she’d been to breaking, she hadn’t a single doubt that, under the same circumstances, she would do it again.

  “I tan’t bweathe!”

  Jenna’s muffled voice against her chest brought Destiny back to the moment. She released her sister and stepped back, picking self-consciously at a speck of lint on her navy slacks. “Sorry, Jen. And I’m sorry about running off like that, too. Really, I am.”

  “It was a stupid thing to do!”

  “Yes, it was.”

  Jenna’s baleful gaze slowly morphed into a wicked grin. “OK. Now tell me about him. What does he do?”

  Destiny laughed, shaking her head in amused disbelief. “Yes, he’s a very nice man, thank you for asking. I’m glad you’re not overly concerned with his financial status.”

  Such wasted sarcasm.

  “Well, someone has to worry about those things. You certainly don’t. Do you even know what Mr. Clay Gallagher does for a living?”

  “Of course I do. He, uh…” Her voice trailed off. “He—I—” She frantically searched her mind for something, anything to pacify Jenna.”He…I…” Hadn’t Dr. Bob said something about what the man did? Her stubborn memory refused to yield a hint, which was no surprise, considering the state of her emotions that day. She bit her lip and grimaced at Jenna, who only shot her a Cheshire-cat grin and lifted perfectly shaped brows in haughty, I-told-you-so superiority.

  Destiny sighed. “OK, you’re right. I don’t know.”

  “Well, I do. He’s the much-lauded CEO of Gallagher Investments. I know you’ve heard of them—or haven’t you?”

  Destiny thought she might have seen the company name somewhere around town. But she hadn’t a clue who they were or what they did. Given their name, they probably invest…something. She elected not to make that vague observation aloud.

  Instead, she eyed Jenna with distaste. “You’ve been checking up on him?”

  Jenna sighed, rolling her eyes—green, just like Destiny’s—in hopeless frustration. “Teeni, honey, you have to start taking better notice. Mama’s gone now. You’re thirty-one years old!” She managed to make it sound like a death knell. “It’s time to think about securing your financial future.”

  “Whoa! I had coffee with him, Jen. It wasn’t a date. For pity’s sake, I don’t even know the man. Let’s not send out wedding invitations just yet. And besides.” She turned her back on her sister and set to work on the box she was packing. It was already full, but rather than start on one of the several empty containers stacked against the wall, she stuffed and pounded away at the contents, hoping to achieve another inch or two of space. It felt good to take out her frustration on things she could break if she wanted to. “I haven’t heard from him since. Looks like I made my usual stunning first impression.”

  “Oh, stop it! Why don’t you have any self
-confidence? You’re gorgeous and smart and sweet. Any man would be lucky to have you!”

  “Yeah, I’m so smart I spilled my guts about my matchmaking plan. I’ll probably never see him again.” She braved a sideways glance at her sister.

  Jenna’s hands flew to her mouth. Mama’s favorite dress crumpled to the floor.

  “Destiny!” Her sister’s eyes widened in horror. “You didn’t!”

  Here we go. Destiny sighed and waited for the storm to pass.

  Jenna’s eyes flashed green fire. “I wish you’d forget that ridiculous idea, Teeni. You’re not starting any such business. And you’re never going to find a husband if you scare them off before they get to know you.”

  Tears stung the backs of her eyes, and Destiny pretended to be very busy for a moment. Finally, she spoke around the ridiculous lump in her throat. “Did it ever occur to you that I might not be looking for a husband? Who says I have to get married, anyway?”

  “Of course you have to get married—it’s the proper thing to do. You don’t want to end up a lonely old spinster, do you?”

  Like Betty Marsden. Clay’s aunt had been on her mind a great deal. Strangely enough, the short time she’d spent with him had further cemented her desire to start the business she’d been dreaming about. She could help people find true love, she knew she could. She’d prevent a few folks from growing old all alone, becoming starchy spinsters and crusty old bachelors. It would be her mission.

  “Teeni? You OK?” For the first time all day, her sister sounded uncertain.

  Surprised, Destiny turned to shoot a curious glance her way.

  “I’m fine.” Try as she might, she couldn’t prevent a tinge of sourness in her short reply.

  Jenna secured the lid over the box at her feet, then crossed the room to place a gentle hand on Destiny’s arm. “I’m sorry.”

  Destiny bent to force the top onto her own overstuffed container. “Whatever for?”

  “For being bossy and nosy and not very nice.”

  Knowing she’d have to look at her eventually, Destiny raised her gaze and forced a tiny smile. “You are nosy.”

  Jenna nodded and twisted her face into a wry grimace. “Bossy, too.”

  “Yeah. And not very nice, either.”

  “I’ll do better.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  “Probably not.”

  They both burst out laughing, and suddenly everything was OK again. Jenna picked up an empty box and disappeared into the closet, only to poke her head out the door a moment later.

  “Seriously, Teeni, you know I love you, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I know. I love you, too…Squirt.”

  A pillow flew across the room, and Destiny automatically dodged it. Some things never changed.

  Destiny's Dream

  4

  Big revolving doors released Destiny onto the busy street. Her handbag swung from one arm as she wound her way through the mass of hurrying humanity toward a grassy picnic area in Castle Creek Park, just down the block. Under her other arm, she clutched a manila folder, still unable to believe its contents.

  God seemed to be smiling on her today. First the unbelievable paperwork in her possession, and now, an empty bench waited, nestled beneath the shade of a huge elm tree and located far enough from the playground to be peaceful. Grateful for the shady reprieve from the day’s unseasonable heat, suited more for late June than early May, she sank onto the wooden seat. Stashing her purse between her feet freed her hands to wrap around the folder on her lap. She stared at it in stunned disbelief.

  How on earth had she managed to convince the bank to give her a business loan? Dr. Bob’s letter of recommendation must have done the trick. She’d filled out the application on a wing and a prayer, not daring to hope she’d receive approval. Yet here she sat, less than twenty-four hours later, with a check and a stack of signed loan documents in hand.

  She could start her Christian dating service. Now. In fact, she’d better get on it pronto, because depositing this beautifully official document would set in motion a hefty monthly payment, starting sixty days from today. Her insides churned at the thought, but at the same time, she felt energized, eager to get started. Her dream hovered close enough to touch.

  And she had customers waiting. A month and a half ago, just prior to Mama’s death, Destiny had set up a website and put out a few feelers to see what kind of response she could conjure. At the same time, she placed a few ads on the Internet, as well as in the local newspaper and in half a dozen publications in surrounding areas. To her surprise, the response had been nothing short of phenomenal. And now she had the foundation to start working those response sheets and meeting her customers.

  “Mind if I sit here? I promise to be on my best behavior.”

  Destiny’s head snapped up in response to the deep voice, and she found herself grinning like a delighted child at the large, somewhat shaggy man who completely blocked her view. Funny, she didn’t remember Clay’s eyes being quite so gray. Almost silver.

  He lowered himself onto the bench beside her. “I’ll take that smile as a yes, if you don’t mind.”

  “Yes? Oh! Yes, of course. I’m sorry, you surprised me.” She laid an instinctive hand on his bulging upper arm. “How are you, Clay? It’s good to see you!” Easy. No need to pant at his heels like an excited puppy. Suddenly self-conscious, she withdrew her hand. Maybe if she sat on it, she’d be able to keep it to herself.

  “I’m good.” He grinned, his gaze moving over her face and resting on her lips, which tingled in warm response. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, lady.”

  “Thank you.” Overcome with a sudden, unprecedented shyness, Destiny lowered her head, unsure where to go from here. He hadn’t called, and he hadn’t stopped by. That said something rather important, didn’t it?

  He cleared his throat and touched her hand, which rested once more atop the manila folder in her lap. “I’ve thought about you a lot since…that day. Wondered how you were doing.”

  She looked into his eyes, then nodded. “Yeah, I could tell you were concerned. You drove me half crazy with all those phone calls—and the constant visits! Really, Gallagher, you should learn to control yourself.”

  A dull wave of red washed up his throat and into his face. His lips curved into a sardonic smile, and he shook his head. “Still sharp with the comebacks, I see. Look, I’m sorry, Destiny. I really did want to see you again, but…” He shrugged. “You didn’t give me your phone number. I took it as a clue you didn’t want me to call.”

  She gasped, searching her mind for confirmation of his unexpected explanation. Could it really be that simple? Come to think of it, she hadn’t offered a contact number. Still, this huge wave of overwhelming relief was complete overkill. Why should she care whether he called or not?

  “I didn’t?” She managed to keep her voice neutral, despite the ridiculous pounding of her heart. “I’m sorry. I assure you, it was an oversight.” She grinned and pointed an accusing finger in his face. “But you know where I live, so you’re still in the dog house.”

  He laughed. “Come on, give me a break. In my experience—which I’ll admit isn’t anything to brag about—if a lady wants a gentleman to contact her, she manages to give him a phone number. You didn’t, so I hardly felt comfortable just showing up on your doorstep. Will it help if I tell you I drove by your house at least a half dozen times?”

  She eyed him with blatant, narrow-eyed suspicion. “Only if it’s true.”

  He held up two fingers, those amazing eyes innocent as a child’s—as was his instant response. “Scout’s honor! Cross my heart. If I’m lyin’, I’m dyin’, lady. It’s true.”

  Relenting, she laughed and relaxed, at last allowing her hand the liberty to touch his. “You big goon. You should have just stopped and come on in. If I didn’t give you my phone number, it was only because…well, I guess I had a lot on my mind that day.”

  “I know you did.” His fingers curled around hers, ho
lding her hand briefly captive—not that it put up much of a struggle. “How are you holding up?”

  “I’m fine,” she assured him. “I miss my mother every moment of every day, but I know she’s finally where she wanted to be for a long time.” Pulling in a deep breath, she forced away sad thoughts and smiled. “I’m glad you happened by. I have great news.” She paused, biting her lip. “But you probably don’t want to hear—oh, never mind.” She squirmed uncomfortably, remembering this man’s less-than-positive response the first time she mentioned matchmaking to him.

  “Hey, I can always use good news. Spill it.”

  Still she hesitated. “I don’t know, Clay. It’s about that business we discussed.”

  He grinned. “Of course. The Cupid factory, where you plan to churn out real, live romance on a daily basis.”

  Heat rose in her cheeks and she closed her eyes for a second. Drawing a calming breath, she held up both hands and gave a little shake of her head. “OK, never mind. I knew you weren’t the best person to share this kind of news with.”

  The cocky half grin disappeared in an instant. “Look, Destiny, I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just my weird sense of humor. I really want to know what’s happening.”

  She remained silent, and he tilted her chin and peered into her eyes. In his gray gaze, she saw genuine regret. “I’m really sorry. That was rude. Come on…tell me your news. What’s going on?” He nodded toward the folder in her lap. Stapled to the bottom corner, the finance manager’s business card made her recent whereabouts somewhat less than a secret. “That looks pretty official. Does it have anything to do with what you were going to say?”